We stopped at the town of Dragon Bridge to consult my map and plot a route to a spot Serana indicated.

"Here," Serana's finger traced a road heading north and a little east of the town. "We'll pass Kilkreath Temple and then take the road west for a few hours. If we break from the road... here, we'll be on a narrow winding path to the shoreline. From there we'll follow the shoreline past Northwatch Keep. My family used to keep a rowboat concealed at the tip of the peninsula. Hopefully, they still do."

I made a face, "Okay. We'll need to resupply. This looks like a long trek through… well, it's all icy wilderness there. There will be little-to-no roads to follow…" I paused and then dropped my voice to a murmur. "Are you going to be alright? This is a full day, minimum, where we likely won't find anything for you to... I mean… I know that the Thalmor have taken over the Keep. Unless you manage to lure a guard into the wilderness, you won't be able to feed for a while. Even bandits wouldn't find much in the way of shelter or targets in this area."

Serana blinked at me and then comprehension dawned on her face, "I see… well, I'll be all right for a few days. I'd rather not take my meals from some poor schmuck who had the bad luck to get guard duty at a bad time."

I gave a rueful smile and accepted her decision and reassurance. Serana's judgment was based on a certain level of innocence, but also of morality; I wasn't going to argue with that. But I also understood Serana's need for human blood, and I had to be fair; the bandits she killed were their own brand of monster. Serana had no idea who the Thalmor were, and thus had no way of knowing that they were as bad as a bandit, if not worse.

There were a lot of things I could say, but I hesitated. How do you tell your companion that the world would be a much better place if the Thalmor all died horrible deaths? It was a hard, dark truth that the majority of the world would agree with. But going into the atrocities of the Altmer after founding the Thalmor branch of government was not a subject I particularly wanted to get into. If we could pass the fort unnoticed, so much the better.

The trek north was as unpleasant as I had feared. While the southern half of Skyrim was enjoying a milder approach to autumn, the northern half was already icy, even to the west of the Three Hold Storm. Despite my careful purchases of warm travel clothes, and my coat of bear fur, I could feel the growing bite in the air as we left the well-traveled routes. Serana found the narrow pathway by memory, rather than by a marked road, and the icy wind did its best to blow straight through everything. We had to travel along a steep switchback path down an icy cliff face to the shoreline and head west. Even the shore was its own brand of misery. The ground was flat here, but the sand and rounded rocks shifted under our feet. Constant waves covered the shore with ice and frost, which made footing treacherous.

We had to skirt a growling snow bear as it defended its prey, and a trio of wolves stared at us from a distance. The wildlife here was used to things on two legs being aggressive and dangerous, and so treated us with a wary watchfulness. Proof positive that we were getting close to the Thalmor occupied fort.

Finally, we rounded a bend and Northwatch Keep came into sight… as did three Thalmor Justiciars, who were starting a patrol.

The Justiciar in the lead narrowed his golden eyes and hurried his steps so that they squared off at us. It was clear they were looking for a fight. "Well, well, well… two little spies skulking around in the wilderness."

"Absolutely not!" I protested, looking offended, "we're travelers."

"Oh really?" the lead Justiciar sneered, "And what would travelers be doing so far away from the beaten path? There's nothing along these shores but clams and the occasional horker. The only point of interest near here is our Keep, and we don't welcome visitors."

"Bears too," I tried to soothe, shrugging my shoulders so that my bear fur coat rustled. "Good furs on them, and this far out, we don't cross paths with other hunters."

"Bears," the Justiciar repeated, not believing it for a second. "Do you think such a flimsy excuse is a good cover story… spy? I think the truth is that you're plotting to interfere with official Thalmor business!"

I could practically hear Serana's eyes rolling as she scoffed. "Do all Thalmor have such high opinions of themselves?"

"That we are superior to men is an established fact. We live far longer than men, are superior in all things magical, and have bred ourselves to the highest standard." He turned his head and spat on the ground at Serana's feet, "Filthy Nord dog. In time, your entire race will be thralls to the Thalmor, or eradicated."

"Oh, now you've killed the village chicken," I muttered to myself, pressing my palms to my face.

"Excuse me?" Serana's voice turned as icy as the shores we stood on. She took a step forward, coming into my line of sight.

"You heard me, human," the Justiciar sneered, his mouth twisting into a satisfied smile at having goaded her. "You are but a dog, and we are your masters!"

Serana threw her hood off, her dark amber eyes blazing, and her lip curling to bare her fangs, "Think you can take me, Altmer? Come on then, let's see what you've got!"

One of the other Thalmor mages shrieked in genuine fear, "Vampire!"

My bow was in my hands in a single fluid motion, "Well Serana, I guess you won't be hungry for a while..."

An ice spear flew past me in answer, and the Thalmor mage to my left made a wet gurgling noise. The thud of her collapsing backward into the sand made the ringleader shout in rage. The second Thalmor was also a mage, and immediately went after Serana. The two were soon exchanging spells with brutal speed. The ringleader was a swordsman. And… well… 'Never bring a sword to a bow fight,' my mentor always said.

The fight on my end was quick; I knew the weaknesses of elven armor, and my arrows were capable of punching through it. The lead justiciar fell, and I glanced around, soon realizing that I was standing alone on the shore. Looking around wildly, my eye finally caught sight of two sets of footprints. They were heading back around the corner toward where we had evaded the bear.

I followed the trail, peered around the corner, and then drew back. Serana had it under control, and I didn't need to loiter close enough to see the result, thank you very much.

Oh Stendarr, am I in trouble for not giving two shakes of a skeever's tail about these Thalmor? I silently asked my patron.

There was a pause and then a voice, humming with warm golden power, whispered into my thoughts; "Do not dwell upon their fates, my champion. For the hundreds of people they have tortured to death, justice has been served."

I let out a small breath of relief. It was always a difficult choice; to face having to kill a person. Doubly so when the ones you killed were so easily villainized in the eyes of everyone. It was easy. Too easy... to convince myself that The Enemy deserved their fate, and just as easy to slip that mantle over the head of any death I would want to justify to myself. It was why I only hunted vampires who had already committed heinous crimes. It was why I struggled to save every thrall I could. It was why… I accepted Serana's need to feed, and the importance of choosing those who would not be missed when their lives were snuffed out.

Serana returned, looked at me, and her steps faltered briefly.

I merely gave her a small nod and a smile, "Let's get to the docks, shall we?"

.

Castle Volkihar almost completely dominated the frigid island it loomed upon. The massive building was three stories tall, not counting the towers that stretched toward the clouds. Even the stone walkway leading to the front gates was wide enough for at least two carriages to pass one another, side by side, with room to spare. A freezing fog wrapped around the building, rendering everything cold and wet, with just enough of a chill to make walking risky. More gargoyles perched at equal intervals along the length of the causeway, leaving me feeling like a bunny before a pack of wolves.

"This is your home?" I asked, trying to take my mind off the image of several of them erupting out of their stone skins at once.

"This is it. Home sweet... castle."

"Why didn't you tell me it was so huge?" I let my eyes travel over the tallest tower in awe, then blinked as I belatedly caught her hesitation. I turned to look at her, and her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"I didn't want you to think I was one of those... you know, the women who sit in their castle all day? I don't know. Coming from a place like this, well... it's not really me." Her fingers were fidgeting with her clothes; straightening, tugging, sorting. "I grew up here, but it doesn't reflect… me. I hope you can believe that."

"Well, yeah. I mean, we've only known each other for a few days, but I can't imagine you sitting by the window doing embroidery," I made a mock disgusted face. Serana laughed for the first time since I met her. It was an open, warm sound, and I liked the sound of it.

When we got closer to the castle gate, Serana stopped me for a moment, "Hey, so... before we go in there..."

"Hmm?" I turned, and felt myself tense up again as I looked at her.

Serana's expression was anxious, "I wanted to thank you for getting me this far. But after we get in there, I'm going to go my own way for a while. It's not about you," she hastened to add, holding up both hands as though to ward off some perceived anger on my part. "You've been so great in getting me safely back here. Really, you have. I just need to be alone for a while. There are a lot of feelings wrapped up in this old place, and a lot of history. I don't think you're quite ready to have to face them."

"I think…" She paused and shook her head slightly, "I know your friends in the Dawnguard would want to kill everything and everyone in here. I'm sure you would too, given the chance. I want to ask you though… please… don't make any aggressive moves. For that matter, don't mention your… profession. At all. If possible, once we're inside, keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead."

My eyebrows rose, "I kind of figured we'd be walking into a situation that would require… discretion on my part," I reassured her. Then, I ventured, "Um… Are you all right?"

"I think so. And... thanks for asking," Serana gave me a tiny smile, though her expression was still pensive.

I frowned, "I meant what I said, by the way… You don't have to stay here."

Serana's expression softened, "Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from..." she trailed off uncomfortably.

"...from someone who hunts vampires for a living?" I gave her the same calm, good humor she'd shown in Dimhollow. "Well, let's say that traveling with you has been a bit eye-opening. And I'm not... rigid… in my views."

A genuine smile struggled to cross her face, but her eyes gave away how apprehensive and uncertain she was. "Let's just… get inside," she finally murmured.

The double doors had barely begun to swing shut behind us before a stiff-necked High Elf stalked forward to challenge us. I could tell at a glance that he was a vampire; his golden skin had paled to a jaundiced looking yellow, and his eyes glowed. His expression was pinched with the same disapproval that most Altmer usually wore. However, it was not withered in the way that the more feral vampires tended to get; he was well-fed here. Fangs flashed in the dim interior light when he opened his mouth.

"How dare you trespass here!" he spat, the very picture of aristocratic outrage.

I got the impression that he viewed us with the same disdain and affront as a nobleman whose carpets were being soiled by a pair of muddy dogs. Then he froze in mid-step, his glowing yellow eyes locking on my companion.

His voice changed immediately to astonishment and joy, "Wait... Serana? Is that truly you? I… I cannot believe my eyes!" He spun and practically sprinted to a balcony, overlooking a massive dining hall.

"I guess my presence is still welcome," Serana murmured, though she didn't sound enthusiastic about it.

After sharing a glance, the two of us followed the Altmer vampire. I let my pace slow a little, letting Serana take the lead. She stepped into the role like someone putting on familiar, but very uncomfortable, clothes.

I was able to see three long tables arranged in a squared-off U shape. Bloody bones, raw, dripping flesh, and blood splatters were everywhere. Here and there, I could see places where a great deal of blood had spilled, and allowed to pool, and then freeze. Places where thralls had been slaughtered, and then their lifeblood was wasted on the floor. The smell of death was muted by the ever-present cold, but still heavy enough to give everything a rotten feel. Two death hounds were pacing around the room, pausing once in a while to sniff at the table. One found a blood-soaked ribcage and settled down to gnaw. The sound of too-many teeth scraping over the bone was a grating background noise behind the murmur of voices.

I could see the still bodies of at least two humans, stretched out on the tables like expensive offerings at a banquet. Even as I watched, one vampire sat up from her feeding directly from the veins of her -either dying or freshly killed- victim.

She smirked in satisfaction before wiping her lips off with two fingers. She inspected the trace of blood on the two digits before licking the blood of her victim from them in a gesture that was almost… lewd. If the carnal expression of the male vampire to her left was any sign, I wasn't the only one who noticed. He seized her wrist and dragged his tongue from her elbow to the palm of her hand before leering at her. The two rose from the table, clearly intending to find a frigid corner to do something other than feed.

Ew. Ew, ew, ew, ew…

I let my gaze flick to the walls as a distraction. A few Thralls stood submissively in front of the hanging tapestries. They were holding silver trays with tall bottles and several goblets perched on them.

Divines… I swallowed. The enthralled people were holding the blood of fellow humans as though they were fine vintage wines. We had definitely found a nest of vampiric debauchery. And I was badly outnumbered… Not that I had entertained any real hopes of cleaning house alone.

At the head of the room was a Nord man. He was wearing very old-fashioned, but also noble, armor with a blood-red cape. He was holding a goblet and sipping with lazy arrogance as his gaze traveled around the room. This, I suspected, was the king of the castle… Harkon. Serana's father. The man I planned to call to task for whatever he had done to Serana. But that would have to wait until later.

His gaze was as yellow as the sun, and his ever-smirking mouth made me want to punch the expression right off of it. Even among fellow vampires, his expression was one of disdain. Everyone, and everything, was beneath him.

Unaware of my cautiously concealed horror and loathing, the Altmer vampire announced, "My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!"

Heads snapped toward us, varying degrees of satisfaction, pleasure, and even amazement on every face. Murmurs ran through the hall.

Harkon looked up, and his lazy smirk widened, "My long-lost daughter returns at last. And I trust you have my Elder Scroll?"

Do not punch him. Do not punch him. You can skewer him later with the Dawnguard at your back. Do not punch his smug face, no matter how much you want to...

Serana's expression darkened, and her voice was full of censure. "After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me? Yes, I have the scroll."

Harkon made a show of looking contrite, and it was as false as it was brief, "Of course, I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?" A flicker of disdain crossed his face. He actually thought less of his daughter for wanting to hear him express affection for his own flesh and blood. This too, was a brief emotion, washed away by a sneering wave of satisfaction. "Ah, if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike. Now tell me, who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?"

Those words were like a splash of icy water straight from the Sea of Ghosts down my cuirass. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I didn't want Lord Harkon's attention on me. Too late to cut and run, I followed Serana down the stairs and into the brightly lit center of the room.

The smell of the place was even stronger here; rotten bits of flesh and old blood stayed on the stones to putrefy. The only reason we weren't being swarmed by flies was because this island was too far to the north. No insects could survive out here, where summer did not even touch the land.

Now that we were closer, I got a good look at him. Like Serana, he was only a little pale. Looking between him and the other vampires in the room, I knew that I had to revise my knowledge base. Serana wasn't unique. Between the surrounding vampires and Serana's family, I was looking at two very different types of vampiric infection. One was classic Sanguinaire, and the other could almost pass for a human if one could disguise their eyes. The realization scared me clear to Oblivion and back. Vampires like Harkon and Serana were unfamiliar to me.

Serana had admitted to being a Volkihar vampire, and we were standing inside Volkihar castle. But there were details that my knowledge base had bypassed. I needed to find my old copy of Immortal Blood and refresh my memory.

"This is my savior, the one who freed me," Serana gestured to me.

Harkon's eyes roved over me, and I wasn't sure if he was sizing me up for dessert or dismissing me as a filthy peasant. Both? I thought, as I schooled my expression to an impassive mask. Yeah, definitely both.

Finally, Lord Harkon lowered himself far enough to speak directly to me. "For my daughter's safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me, what is your name?"

"Lasirah," I said coolly, matching his dismissive attitude with one of equal disdain. Gratitude? You don't know the meaning of the word.

He made a tiny gesture, as though brushing the information away like a fly; "I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are."

I gave him the tiniest dip of my chin in acknowledgment; "You're vampires."

"Not just vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim. For millennia we have lived here, far from the cares of the world." A superior smirk played across his face, "While others are hunted and slain, my clan survives."

Four thousand years of isolation, with nothing but other vampires for company. Only an occasional foray to gather up human cattle. The realization flitted through my mind in an instant. Each undead bloodsucker goading the other to new heights of cruelty and depravity… for four thousand years... Longer, even, since that only counts Serana's imprisonment. How long has it really been? Five thousand years? Longer? That's a long time to degrade one's humanity to the point where it is unrecognizable.

Unaware of the thoughts that ran through my head, Harkon continued. "Of course, our community was badly shaken when my wife betrayed me and stole away that which I value most."

The scroll. You value the scroll. You couldn't give one pile of troll dung about your daughter. I kept my snide thoughts from my face. "And now?" I asked out loud.

"You have done me a great service, and now you must be rewarded. There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll... and my daughter," he tacked Serana at the end of the statement as an afterthought. "I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again."

Become a vampire? Not in this, or any other, lifetime. "And if I refuse your gift?" I asked out loud.

Harkon sneered lazily, "Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall." Then his gaze turned thoughtful, "Perhaps you still need convincing?"

Harkon shrugged out of his cuirass with the ease of someone who had done it many times, and then dropped it on the bloodstained ground. With similar ease, and no modesty to speak of, he dropped his cuisses, greaves, and boots. Now he was wearing only his cape, an overly fancy loincloth, and something that was more decoration than armor across his pectorals. The man had been fit when he had changed: undeath preserving him for all time. He flicked a glance at me to gauge my reaction.

He was a handsome enough man that I could see why some women would find themselves flushing or staring. But, as my fellow Redguards liked to say, men didn't flood my oasis. I stood casually, watching him without a single sign of being impressed.

A tiny frown of disappointment crossed his face; he was used to being fawned over. Then he seemed to let it go and spread his hands dramatically, "Behold the power!"

I could feel the blood drain out of my face as black energies consumed the Nord almost instantly. His skin turned stone gray, and his yellow eyes changed to an orange-gold hue. The dark energies intensified, and his form twisted into a large creature with sharp claws and bat-like wings. He gained at least two feet in height, and though he remained humanoid, his features became bat-like. He sported an array of fangs in his leering mouth. His wings should have been useless for flight, having the wing-bones, but only sporting a thin strip of membrane. Even so, he spread them and levitated into the air by at least a foot. His three-toed feet rose from the ground, and not a breath of wind stirred from his spread, but unbeating wings.

"This is the power that I offer!" He boomed triumphantly, "All will fear you! All will submit to your slightest whim! The power to command jarls and kings! Immortality! The darkest delights for your pleasure! Now, make your choice!" He floated for a few moments more, before settling back onto his feet. Smirking, he crossed his arms, his mutated bestial face making the expression even uglier.

I was in deep. Like Pilgrim's Trench at the bottom of the Sea of Ghosts deep. Vampires could not transform. This meant that Harkon, and by extension, Serana, were vampires of a type never before encountered. Which meant that I had to warn Isran and the Dawnguard as soon as possible. I had to get out of here alive, and unchanged…. Not that I had wanted whatever it was they had in the first place.

A glance out of the corner of my eye showed that Serana wasn't surprised by Harkon's transformation. In fact, her expression was… frozen. The woman's face was carefully neutral, but for the briefest of moments, I could see a flicker of revulsion in her exotic eyes. In that instant, I knew that unlike him, she hated it. Rejected it. Would never take that form if she could help it. That tiny nugget of information about her gave me a small amount of comfort.

I shook my head at the creature before me. "I must decline your offer, Lord Harkon; I don't want to become a vampire." I felt a tiny trickle of pride that my voice didn't quaver or squeak.

His ugly, bat-like face twisted in scorn, "So be it! You will live as prey, like all mortals. And like the lowly mortal you are, I hereby banish you from the glory of our dark world!"

He raised a clawed hand, summoning an orb of dark energy, before throwing it at me. It hit my chest and my skin pricked all over as the energy engulfed me, causing my vision to fade out. Before I could work myself into a panic, the darkness pulled away. I was back on the shore, standing next to the rowboat that had brought us here… but now, I was alone.